Am I Disturbing You?
by Rabbit-in-the-hat505
Summary: Machiavelli just wants to get his work done-but La Volpe wants to play.


Title: Am I Disturbing You?

Characters: La Volpe, Machiavelli

Rating: M—for a chance of future chapters.

Disclaimer: Ass-creed...I mean Assassin's Creed belongs to Ubisoft, and not me. If it did, this would happen a lot in the game,

Machiavelli sat at his desk, quill in hand; his eyes plastered to the parchment before him. His head ached as he continued to read every paper, and occasionally joting down his signature or notes. The scratching of his quill against the parchment, and his slow, even breathing was the only noise that echoed through the small room. To say that Machiavelli was focused was an understatement, he was transfixed on getting his work done so that he might go out and enjoy the day-or what was left of it. He was so focused, how ever, that he did not notice his door creaking open a tad, and a brown hooded man creeping through it.

La Volpe smirked as he craned his head into the room, his eyes locking on Machiavelli's hunched over form. The man was going to work himself to death one of these days, and that is where La Volpe stepped in. Making sure his steps were hushed, he tip toed into the room; not bothering to close the door behind him. He could only image the ridicule that he would get if Machiavelli were to catch him sneaking up on him. But thankfully, the assassin kept his eyes glued to his work; only so much as coughing as the thief crept ever closer. He froze when Machiavelli dropped a piece of paper. He cursed lowly, and bent down to retrieved it. La Volpe held his breath, and closed his eyes.

Two minutes passed by with out a word, and the thief opened one eye to see the assassin, once again, working on his papers. Smiling in triumph, La Volpe closed the distance between the two, and successfully stood behind him. He thought for a moment, his finger lightly taping his chin. What should he do to get his attention? Poke his neck-no. Tug on his hair-no. Grope him-definitely not. A fox like grin swept across La Volpe's face as an idea crossed his mind. Slowly, the thief leaned down; his lips ghosting over Machiavelli's neck, then ear. He frowned in disappointment how ever, when the assassin didn't so much as flinch. Again, La Volpe breathed on Machiavelli's neck-only to receive no response. Irritated, the thief stuck out his tongue, and slowly dragged his across the assassins face.

Machiavelli went ridged as La Volpe's warm tongue swept across his face. Heat rose to his cheeks as he turned in his chair to look at the assassin-disbelief, and-disgust lined his face; accompanied by a touch of lust. La Volpe only smiled, his face still inches away from the assassins.

"Am I disturbing you, Machiavelli?"

"Yes." The thief leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the others.

"Maybe I should disturb you more often, hm?"

"I don't know that you are talking about." Machiavelli said quietly, his usual loud, stern voice lower. La Volpe's grin widened as he leaned closer, lightly pressing his lips to the assassin's. Those lips lingered for a moment, molding against the others. But, the thief grew brave, and flicked out his tongue; rubbing it against the assassin's lower lip. Machiavelli parted his lips-allowing La Volpes tongue to slip into his mouth. The battle for dominance began, Machiavelli coming out as the winner. La Volpe pulled away, smirking at the assassin as he stared back at him. Slowly, the fox flicked his tongue out to wet his lips.

"Seems you rather enjoy my—distracting you."

Then, the assassin snapped, promptly kicking the thief away away. La Volpe fell to the floor, sprawled out, and moaned in pain. "Che diavolo?" Machiavelli ignored La Volpe's questioning gaze as he swept him to his feet by his collar. La Volpe glanced up at the other man, only to smirk more once he saw the embarrassed blush that covered the others face.

"Machiavelli, no need to be harsh, I was kidding, amico mio!" The assassin said nothing as he dragged the thief to the door, kicking it open with his foot. Machiavelli tossed La Volpe to the floor outside his office, and then slammed his office door shut.

La Volpe looked up as one of the novices walked by, perplexed at what they had witnessed. The fox only stood, dusted his self off, and jabbed a thumb towards the assassin's closed door.

"He doesn't like to play rough."

A/N: So this is my second or third Ass creed fan fic, and I had to do it on Machiavelli and La Volpe. For some reason...i just love them. This was biased off of a picture on Deviantart. If you want more information go to my page found on my profile. (Is running out of time and cant dilly dally)

This was written in five or ten minutes while listening to "You're So Damn Hot" By OK Go.I hope ya'll enjoy. Reviews equal love, and free hugs. :D


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